I’ve been told ghosts are cliché –
and I hear them squeaking messages into
steam on the windows.
It’s one of those days, Kimmy,
where I brew everybody’s coffee – while
watching all those photos
blend into a crema on the surface of my scars.
I want to watch him burn
an arc of disappointment
across the – false smile of my father’s fake teeth grin.
How do you leave
notes – Ouija – across
the depth of wasted genetics?
The nuances are in place, an owl in the corner
of a darkened room
and a bluebird in the heart of some junkie poet.
Yes, ghosts are cliché, but
at least mine have
the decency to haunt me in the daylight.
– Aaron Kent
I’m drinking coffee
that someone else made
because I like to be taken care of
for about 20 minutes at a time
and because lately I have struggled to
make anything for myself…
you might know this,
because it’s been months…
on the counter are
two ingredients requiring
only heat to become a meal,
but I am lying down
and they will stay ingredients forever
my friend died but she’s
far too practical to become
which I admire in a certain way
I tried to imagine her as an old woman
her hair was gray
but the roots were dark
and she was smiling down at me
with something that looked like pity
– Kimmy Walters